


Of Fire and Water

by coatlicue



Series: Elements [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Angst, F/F, Faberry mentioned, brittana, quinntana friendship, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coatlicue/pseuds/coatlicue
Summary: “There is a knock on her bedroom door and the door opens a second later, and she catches sight of a blonde head of hair. She hates to sound so insufferably cliché, but when she catches sight of blue eyes, she can almost swear that the world stills for a moment. The girl has blonde hair that seems to shimmer in the light, and her eyes look like they hold the depths of the ocean.”Or, Brittany becomes Santana's roommate at the orphanage.





	Of Fire and Water

Santana Lopez watches the bright white wallpaper of the room with quiet nostalgia. She does not know why she is so affected by Quinn Fabray's leaving, because in theory she should not be surprised at this fact. People always leave, they do, and that is a fact. She has been abandoned by people her whole life, but Quinn Fabray had somehow become her best — and her only— friend. Friendships are built by need. And maybe Santana Lopez needed a friend, maybe she needed something to hold on to. 

Is it stupid to want to be able to hold on to something? Maybe it is, and maybe she shouldn't be feeling that way at all. In all honesty, she can't bring herself to care. She misses Quinn, she does, and yet she feels a bit of resentment towards Quinn because she could get out of here and she couldn't. Maybe the fates are at play here, maybe there is something better that awaits her, but maybe there is only a quiet silence. Maybe she wasn't good enough to be loved by a real family. She had never been good enough before.

And god, now she sounds like some sad fucking orphan in a sad tired book. She shouldn't need anyone else, considering how little anyone else has ever needed her. She lunges herself on her bed and kicks the bedpost that she has always known. Twelve notches are on the bedpost, each dug a little deeper than the one before it. She digs below the weight of her mattress and fishes out a pack of cigarettes. A minute later the cigarette is dangling from her lips, she inhales quietly and quickly basks in the rush that the smoke gives her. She knows that it could kill her, she too had taken that insufferable 'Too Good For Drugs' course in middle school. Maybe she is way beyond caring.

She isn't suicidal or anything, god no, she wouldn't dare be so cliché. Still, she hasn't got much left to lose anyway. Everyone in the home knows the story of poor Santana Lopez, she's been here ages and nothing ever seems to change. Maybe she was just born to be alone, whatever. 

There is a knock on her bedroom door and the door opens a second later, and she catches sight of a blonde head of hair. She hates to sound so insufferably cliché, but when she catches sight of blue eyes, she can almost swear that the world stills for a moment. The girl has blonde hair that seems to shimmer in the light, and her eyes look like they hold the depths of the ocean. God, she's glad that nobody can actually read her mind. She'd lose her rep for sure.

The girl is holding a suitcase in her hand, and it's pink. It has glitter on it. On top of that, she's wearing a panda hat. A panda hat. If it were on anyone else, Santana would have scoffed and possibly taunted them about it to no end, but on this girl it's almost cute. 

“Hi. I'm Brittany S. Pierce and I think you're my roommate now.” Hey voice has a melodical tone to it, it's sweet and there is still some untainted innocence in it's waves. She thinks for a second—if only for a second—that she is falling in love with the songs in Brittany's voice. 

“Hi, Brittany. I'm Santana.” Brittany, the name is sweet on her tongue, she feels like she could say it over and over again and it would never lose its meaning. Her voice comes out sweeter than she's used to, and she almost wants to run away from what this revelation entails.

“You're really pretty,” Brittany says, and for a second Santana is sure that her heart has stopped. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and she tries in vain to slow down her heart's palpitations against her chest. Santana is no stranger to her sexuality, but she is a big stranger to romance. Even the thought of liking someone beyond the physical aspect of it makes her want to cower away and never come out of her hiding place. 

“Th-thanks, you—you're pretty too.” Santana stutters and fights to regain her composure. Damn it Lopez, she thinks, she's never had this problem before. She's had roommates come and go before, but they'd never made her feel anything like this. When Santana first looks at Brittany, and really looks at her, she's afraid that she's gone numb, she wants to jump and run and call an ambulance, do something, because she should not be feeling this way. She tried to blame her blatant infatuation with this girl on the fact that she is a lot lonelier than she has been in a long time, but she knows in her heart that she's screwed ten ways over.

Brittany is optimistic, which is something beautiful and rare considering what a shitty hand life had dealt her. Her dad died in Afghanistan and her mom had literally died of cancer a year ago, and yet she keeps moving, she keeps getting up in the morning and she doesn't give up. Santana only wishes she could be so strong.

The next few weeks seem to go by in flashes of color and words. Brittany is beautiful, she's amazing, she makes Santana want to wrap her arms around her milky flesh and never let her go. It's obvious to her (and probably to Brittany, also) that their relationship has moved past the platonic level. Their touches are shy, but they are still more than Santana has done with anyone in a long time, and they sent shots of electricity up her arms in a way that Quinn's touches never did.

They kiss for the first time when something a beer bottle breaks against the floor in the next room and Santana jumps, she literally jumps, and she shakes. Brittany looks at her and raises an eyebrow in such a fashion that would have made Quinn Fabray proud. Santana quickly looks away and hides her face behind a curtain of her hair, but it's no use, because in another moment Brittany is kneeling in front of her, wiping up tears that she didn't know were on her face.

“You okay?” Brittany asks, and her voice holds such caring and softness that Santana feels like weeping for a moment. 

“Yeah... I'm okay. It's just... bottles breaking...kind of brings back old memories.” Santana quickly shakes her head and wipes her eyes. Brittany acts quicker though, and she pulls Santana's hands away from her face and envelops her in a hug. The warmth is foreign to Santana, and the silence is unbearable for a moment, but before she knows what's happening Brittany is bent over her and her face is casting a shadow over hers. 

They don't talk about the kiss after it happens, and they don't dwell on what it means for their relationships, but there are many more kisses shared in the weeks after that. Santana knows that the nature of her and Brittany's relationship has escalated past even 'friends with benefits.' They kiss and they cuddle and they hold hands like a couple, but they don't talk about it. Or rather, Santana doesn't talk about it and Brittany doesn't push her. It works, but it's not enough.

Santana is pondering over this when she sees a flash of red and white in the doorway. She turns quickly, ready to tell the intruder to go away, but when she meets hazel eyes she's jumping up from the bed towards them. She wraps her arms around Quinn, because fuck it, she missed her and it's Quinn—her Quinn, and she didn't forget about her. Quinn stumbles backwards quickly and laughs, before wrapping her arms around the Latina with equal force.

As it turns out, Quinn is a cheerleader now (who woulda thought?), and she has a new girlfriend named Rachel who sings like an angel but is short like a hobbit. Not Quinn's words exactly, but Rachel is literally barely five feet. She's pretty, though, and Quinn is happier than Santana has ever seen her, so she accepts her with open arms.

Santana doesn't know how, but somehow Quinn senses that something is wrong. Two minutes later and Santana is crying into Quinn's shoulder as Quinn very awkwardly pats her back and tries to comfort her. When she's done crying like a three year old, Quinn pinches Santana and tells her that she's an idiot. She tells her that Brittany is a beautiful girl who loves her and that she needs to appreciate her before she loses her. Santana knows she's right—of course she is, but she's still terrified of Brittany rejecting her.

She sucks up her fear, because if there is one thing she is sure of, it's that she loves Brittany in a way that she has never loved anyone before. The twelve notches on her bedpost could never compare to the way that Brittany could make her feel by just brushing her fingers against her hand. There is nothing truer and purer than the love she holds for the blonde. It's something with so much beauty that it isn't possible that it was created by Santana Lopez.

So Santana looks into Brittany's eyes and tries not to get lost in the oceans, she holds her hand and tries to keep her heart lodged firmly inside her chest. “I love you.” Santana says, and Brittany smiles bashfully into her hair. Brittany says “I know.” and kisses her softly before pulling away like she had been burnt. Santana panics for a moment before she tries to calm herself. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, she counts in her head, and then again, ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one. 

“What?”

“I love you, too.” Brittany says and Santana's heart soars for a moment, “But—” She says, and Santana is panicking again. But? “I can't.”

“You can't? Why not?” A million thoughts are running through Santana's head, but she can't sort out all of the sides.

“I'm leaving.” Brittany says, and Santana's heart plummets. Leaving, people always leave. She didn't expect Brittany to leave so soon.

“Leaving?”

“To St. Ann's. I'm getting transferred.”

“Brittany...” her name comes out in a breath, a whoosh of air as her heart deflates and all the air in her body seems to escape her. Brittany envelops her in a warm hug and they cry together for most of the rest of the night. It's to the point where Santana isn't sure anymore where Brittany's tears end and her own begin. They are merged into one for the night, and Santana wishes that they could stay that way forever.

They cannot, of course, and before long Santana is hugging Brittany for what she feels is the last time. She wraps her arms tightly around Brittany and inhales her scent, the smell of rosemary and sweetness that she had grown to love. She lingers for a lot more time than she should be, and even though everyone is watching, she can't bring herself to care.

 

When Brittany leaves, Santana's world feels a lot darker than it has in a long while. The usual blues of her day have turned into grays and blacks and violent mixtures of purples. Perhaps it's for the best, because nobody wants to die without any scars, but Santana has more bruises than she needs. The wounds on her skin can last her a lifetime, because nothing ever changes and people always leave. For some reason she's always alone, she always finds herself lost in herself and people never seem to stick around enough to help her find her way home.


End file.
